


Appearances Can Be Deceiving

by alyjude_sideburns



Category: Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-12
Updated: 2014-01-12
Packaged: 2018-01-08 12:08:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1132478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alyjude_sideburns/pseuds/alyjude_sideburns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John and Rodney are together, but things aren't exactly as they appear (includes a xover with SG1, but is primarily SGA) Special thanks to Arianna who helped with (wrote) Daniel's speech! THANK YOU!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Moonridge Auction 2009. See end note for warning.

 

"Made it your way; cream, sour cream and chives," Rodney answered.

"Thanks. So what's on the schedule for later? A relaxing hike over to the East Pier and that exploring you wanted to do...or maybe the trip to the mainland we've been planning?"

It was day one of their long overdue vacation and Rodney, the man with everything, couldn't have cared less what they did.

John gave a wicked waggle of his eyebrows, cocked his head, and added, "Or maybe we just stay here and go back to," he waved a hand in the general direction of their bedroom, "bed."

Rodney smiled, the one designed to fool everyone who knew him well - including John - and said, "Whatever you want to do, I want to do."

Grinning, John waved a piece of bacon in the general direction of their room and said, "Bed it is. Right after that pesky meeting with the teams in," he checked his watch, "an hour, but after that, I'm all yours."

Rodney should have complained about the last-minute meeting - bitterly. After all, no one had indulged in any kind of downtime in ages. But he didn't.

John should have been surprised by his lack of sulking - but he wasn't.

Which summed everything up in a nutshell.

Rodney watched as John, a half-smile on his face, enjoyed his breakfast while perusing a couple of reports. He hadn't shaved yet, his hair was spiky (yes, even more so than usual), and his right cheek was pillow-creased.

John _should_ have been the most beautiful sight in the world.

Rodney sighed, not loud enough to capture John's attention, but enough to let a small bit of his... Was it ennui or an emotionless kind of...emotion...that he was giving an escape route to with the sigh? Like it mattered? Not likely.

John finished the last of his toast and coffee, put the report down, stood, picked up their dishes and walked them to the counter. He put them in the washer, waved his hand over the small crystal plate and walked back to Rodney. "I'd suggest a shower together, but we both know I'd be late to the meeting. But I promise to zip through it in half the time, all right?"

"Sure. I've got things I can do to stay busy," Rodney said, putting every ounce of fake emotion into the words that he could. He really should have been an actor.

Grinning again, John wagged a finger at him and warned, "Don't get too busy, I don't want to hear anything even remotely resembling, 'I have to finish this, it might hold the secret to the universe' coming out of your mouth. Got that, buddy?"

He hadn't said anything even remotely close to that in... Not since....

Rodney felt his heart jump a bit, but just nodded and crossed his heart. "Reading a mystery book. That's it, just reading."

John patted him on the head on his way to the bathroom. "Good boy."

Rodney was alone.

What a fucking difference a little time can make. He rested his head in his hands and, before he could stop it, his mind was floating back....

***

_Two Months Earlier_ -

"They're on their way, Sheppard, just hold on!"

"There's so much blood, Ronon, so much blood."

The panic in Teyla's voice did more to put the icy-cold grip of fear in Rodney's heart than the pool of red that bubbled up between his fingers while holding his hand over the wound in John's chest. Teyla never allowed her emotions to leak into her voice. Being a leader of an entire race of people could do that to a person. But now... Oh, God...he was going to lose Sheppard and he hadn't - had never - told him the truth. Never said the words he'd promised himself to say, words that should have been said months ago.

Bubbles of froth and blood started to trickle from the corner of John's mouth, slipping down the white skin, through the dark stubble and, mesmerized, Rodney watched.

On a level he refused to accept, the symbolism - the truth - was there.

John's life...dribbling away...and there was nothing anyone could do to stop it.

One altercation too many, this time with a people on M8R-871 who'd embraced the quickly disappearing Wraith and become worshipers of the galactic vampires. So much so, that they'd heard of Atlantis, of John and his team. When faced with the premiere SGA team in person, they'd made it their business to capture them as an offering to their 'gods'.

The Wraith as gods. Fuck, how messed up was that? As if, since the opening of the Stargate on Earth, they hadn't had enough fake gods.

"His lungs are filling with blood," Teyla whispered.

"Damn it," Rodney said. "If only we had something to use - anything - a tube--"

"It's Lorne," Ronon suddenly said from where he stood guard.

"And the Polciums?" Teyla asked without raising her head or moving her gaze from John's face.

"Nowhere in sight, but since the odds are now in our favor, it's not surprising." Ronon glanced down at John and muttered, "Could have used the Marines an hour ago."

There was no answer to that so Rodney went on pouring all that he could of himself into John, while cursing the fact that technology now meant he carried a stylus instead of a fucking pen. If only he had that lovely little plastic tubing....

He heard Lorne and his team yelling at the same moment that John's eyes locked on Rodney's, telegraphing everything that would do them no good now - because at almost the same moment - John took his last breath.

***

_Present_ -

Rodney got up from the table as if he were sixty instead of forty. He walked into the center of the main room of their new quarters to simply stand...silent and still. The ocean held no calming voice now; it was only another reminder of the changes. His old room had been high - too high to hear the water, but he'd been able to see the sky, hear and see the birds. He used to lie alone and wonder why flight was so important to John - until he'd finally taken Rodney out in a jumper.

Then he'd understood; not all of it, but enough. After his first 'flight', his view of the sky had taken on new significance. It put him closer to John and allowed him to dream.

In his silent new quarters, Rodney McKay laughed - bitterly. Him, the practical scientist -dreaming? Oh, yeah, that's when he'd lost it, all right. He'd always prided himself on the fact that he had his head out of the clouds, feet firmly planted on the ground and, yes, DADT had been pretty damn helpful in controlling any dreams he might have entertained concerning a certain colonel. Until that day, in the jumper, in the sky.

He'd fallen hard then and, DADT or not, had started fantasizing.

He was still the practical genius, sure, but some of the much prized scientific mind had given way to a dreamier version of Rodney McKay, one who fantasized about waking in John Sheppard's bed in the morning. That McKay had dreamed big.

And now, DADT was history and, thanks to Carson, he was living his biggest fantasy. Only....

_"I can do it...what you all believed Michael had done to me - I can do for the Colonel."_

 

Not precisely true, Rodney thought.

Not precisely.

He finally moved to the window.

It wasn't just the last couple of months that had brought so much change, but the entire year. The Wraith, while still a threat, were less so simply because there were fewer of them, thanks to - as they now knew - the Replicator-hybrids that had been led by Elizabeth.

After the whole F.R.A.N. thing, he'd begun to worry that some Replicators could have survived - worried enough to start work on another program that would destroy them once and for all - should they show up again.

Then they'd found what was believed to be Michael's final lab and, after one good look at the equipment, Rodney had known his worries hadn't been unfounded.

Everything in the lab looked wrong; everything. The equipment that had been readied for the birth of Teyla's child hadn't been Wraith - there'd been  
no trace of anything that could be attributed to Michael. What there _had_ been, was a surprising amount of scavenged Ancient technology. The warning bells had immediately gone off in his head and, when added to the fact that Michael hadn't been seen or heard of for weeks, he'd come to the, admittedly, far out conclusion that there were, indeed, Replicators still out there - and he'd bet they'd probably killed Michael.

And they had Teyla.

Of course his mind wouldn't stop there - no, it had to take one more leap - to Elizabeth - because it had to be her, albeit an Elizabeth full of nanites. And yes, Rodney knew the Replicators could have killed her once they'd absorbed all her knowledge...but instinct - and hope - whispered otherwise.

In hindsight, it had actually been a fairly easy jump from Wraith to Replicators - even without seeing the final lab. He'd never fully accepted the whole Wraith-human hybrid concept to begin with because it never made any logical sense. The Wraith were already half human, half Iratus bug and the idea that Michael could somehow make the Wraith _more_ human by taking away their need to feed - without losing Wraith strength and power? No. His mind just kept up the old refrain, "Does not compute, does not compute."

And of course, there been Rodney's belief that Michael had been truly insane - thus nullifying any brilliant scientific leaps he might conceive of regarding improvements to the Wraith.

Elizabeth, on the other hand - not insane at all - even as a replicator.

That day, in what he'd decided was her lab and not Michael's, he'd been grateful for that stubborn streak of his - and for the fact that time - and the Pegasus Galaxy - had somewhat eroded his assurance that he was perfect and that F.R.A.N. would be one hundred percent successful. Grateful that he'd started working on a weapon because it had certainly looked as though he'd need it sooner than later.

The trap they laid for Michael had failed - dismally - so, while Sheppard, Ronon and the others continued the search for Teyla, who was due to give birth any minute, he kept his mouth shut about his suspicions and went back to working on his program - one that, if it worked - wouldn't just render the nanites inert, but literally dissolve them. As for the 'hybrids', an important component of his weapon had to ensure that the host survived. He wasn't about to lose Elizabeth again - nor Teyla or her people. So he worked hard, worked to save Teyla, her child, the Athosians, and Elizabeth. He knew he was trying to assuage some of his guilt over the fact that he'd been the one to bring Elizabeth back from near-death, thus allowing all of this to happen in the first place. But he also knew, in the darkest moments of the night - that he was working for John.

Who the hell would believe that the new, impractical Rodney could love so unselfishly as to want nothing more than to give John back the person he'd lost and loved: Elizabeth.

Yep, the new Rodney was a total schmuck.

Why, at such an important time in his life, namely falling hard for Sheppard, couldn't he have retained the selfishness he so prided in himself?

Probably because God was female and hated sarcastic, cowardly - and yet semi-brave - allergic-to-everything scientists named Meredith Rodney McKay.

At least all his hard work paid off - just not in ways he could ever have imagined. He'd certainly never figured he and a handful of Marines led by Major Lorne would be the only ones left in Atlantis when his theories were proven true and his completed but untested device put to the test - the only ones to face Elizabeth when she finally arrived with a Teyla who'd given birth and, after one glance at the experiment that had been her child, had fallen into a catatonic state....

***

_One Year Ago_ -

"Just stall, okay? Keep her fixated on you long enough so I can load my program," Rodney said in a tone that was damn close to a weird and whiny kind of command.

Lorne, looking less than thrilled, nevertheless nodded and started downstairs toward a patiently waiting Elizabeth.

Rodney remained at the console, waiting for the moment when her gaze would leave him and focus on Lorne. In spite of being proven right - to himself - he still felt twenty different kinds of a fool for falling for what, a few hours ago, had been labeled an Ionic storm. Yes, like the kind in Star Trek.

Who knew Elizabeth had been a Trekkie, let alone a Replicator gifted with an ironic sense of humor?

He tried hard not to let his face show his chagrin at the fact that he'd been the one to suggest the entire expedition be temporarily transplanted to the mainland, including an angry John, who'd naturally wanted to stay behind. Thank God he'd had that minor fall on P3M-931, a fall that left him with a broken ankle, thus forcing Carter to order him - and his broken ankle - through the 'gate with everyone else.

Of course, if it had been a real Ionic storm - well, in Rodney's defense, even Radek had agreed that the damage to Atlantis would undoubtedly be catastrophic.

Since trying to protect the entire city would have been impossible, Rodney had concentrated on a plan to shield the tower while minimizing damage to the unshielded parts. Protecting the tower would at least save something of their city - their home. As for the rest of Atlantis, he and Radek had agreed that if all crystals and electronic devices (other than those in the Tower) were removed to the Mainland, then maybe, just maybe, some of the damage to the unshielded parts of the city might be mitigated. It had further been decided that one scientist plus Lorne, his team and two compliments of Marines would stay behind to do whatever necessary to keep the Tower safe.

Now, as he waited for Elizabeth to turn her attention to Lorne, Rodney had to bite back a small grin at the memory of Sam's face when he'd overridden a volunteering Radek. Hell, everyone's expressions had been priceless when he'd volunteered to be the one to stay behind. And no, he hadn't missed Sheppard's Trek-like retort (something about how Rodney was their Spock). Fortunately, his offer had, thank God, sounded more egotistical than heroic, but that hadn't stopped Sheppard's smart-alec remark.

Of course, when the 'storm' morphed into what appeared to be a Wraith hive ship, he'd felt stupid and foolish for falling for something that had never been proven to exist, let alone to the extent for which they'd prepared. But then twelve 'hybrids' materialized on the floor of the 'gate room, one carrying a limp Teyla. They took out two of the Marines and were promptly joined by a black leather-clad Elizabeth. At that moment, in spite of being scared spitless, Rodney couldn't help the feeling of pride in being right - not that pride was going to save him or anyone else if his program didn't work.

But still, if he died, at least it would be with the knowledge that, as always - okay, almost always - he'd been right in his belief that the Replicators in the furthest section of their city had sensed Fran connecting with the others and, before they too could be destroyed, had escaped.

"Wise of you to surrender, Major," Elizabeth said, her words bringing Rodney back to the moment.

"Like we have a choice?" Lorne asked as he and his remaining men were surrounded by six of the Replicators and/or hybrids, the others having been dispatched to either the Infirmary with Teyla and her child, or to ensure that the city was really empty.

Rodney, eyes still on the 'gate room, started covertly keying in the sequence that would activate his program.

"Doctor McKay, now that Teyla is resting, won't you join us?" Elizabeth asked sweetly.

"I assume I can turn off the shield, since it would appear the storm was a figment of your imagination," he asked with as much dripping sarcasm as he could muster, considering his mouth was devoid of saliva.

"Of course. But surely you must admit it was the finest example of a hologram you've ever seen," she responded, a small, almost wicked smile playing over her lips.

"Holograms don't usually give off the kind of--"

"Now, now, no excuses for not tumbling to our little 'joke'. We're simply superior, Rodney."

Even while trying to keep focused on her, he was mentally counting down the seconds it was taking the program to load and trying to will Evan into doing something to further distract her.

It must have worked because Lorne took a step closer and spit out, "So what if you fooled us. You've only got a handful of people--"

"And Atlantis, Major Lorne - don't forget that. It is, after all, one of the reasons we're here. You destroyed our city; it's only fair that you forfeit yours."

Rodney glanced quickly down to the computer screen as Elizabeth spoke and was relieved to see the load bar was completely red. He pressed enter and then cleared the screen and shut down the shield, but not before sending a distress signal to the mainland; something that had been engineered after they'd lost Elizabeth, so she couldn't know about it.

"Surely you've canceled the useless shield by now, Rodney," Elizabeth said.

He nodded but, before he could move, she added, "Kanaan, go up and check the console, make sure Rodney hasn't done anything he might regret."

"Like what?" Rodney managed to snap.

"I don't know, perhaps the self-destruct?"

He let shock register on his face. "Me? Self-destruct? I guess being a Replicator doesn't allow you to retain every memory as we've always assumed."

"On the contrary, and please understand, Rodney; I _am_ Elizabeth and I know you better than you think." She left it at that as Kanaan joined him.

After running a diagnostic, the hybrid said, "He did as instructed. The shield is down and nothing else seems to have been touched."

"Excellent. Bring him to me. It's time we showed him exactly how our process works, don't you agree?"

At her words, Kanaan reached for Rodney, who immediately jerked back. "I hardly think I need--"

"I have no intention of wasting that mind of yours, Rodney. Trust me, becoming one with us will give you more power and strength than you could ever imagine," Elizabeth assured him.

Kanaan took him arm, fingers gripping so tightly, Rodney was certain his flow of blood was being cut off. As they started down the steps, all Rodney could think was - three minutes.

Three minutes.

That's all - three lousy minutes.

Just three minutes before the weapon discharged...and if it worked....

Yeah... _if_.

Once Kanaan had him in front of Elizabeth, she gave a small nod and Rodney felt himself pushed to his knees. Lorne started to move, to protect him, but Elizabeth turned her weapon toward him. "I wouldn't, if I were you, Major. I haven't decided whether to kill you - or use you - so every minute you're still breathing is a good one."

Time had to be up, right? Sure, Rodney thought. Three minutes went fast; one-two-three. Just like that. A snap of the fingers.

Unless you needed it to zip by, then of course, three minutes crawled, stretched out, became forever... and he hated forever.

Except...he wouldn't mind living forever, if it were with--

"Do you know what this is, Rodney?" Elizabeth suddenly asked as she held a small vial in front of him.

"I can guess. Part of your...hybrid-creating serum?"

"Very good." She shook it lightly. "This one's for you."

"Thought as much. Look, before you turn me into Superman, I'd like to know more about Teyla's baby. Why--"

"Our baby," Elizabeth interrupted. "And to anticipate your question - he's the key to ascension. He's all that came before and everything that represents our future. More than human, more than Replicator and more than a hybrid."

"But...he _is_ human, right? He's the product of Teyla and," he jerked his head in the direction of Kanaan, "him."

"Of course. I simply improved his development in the womb."

"Right. So let's say someone - at some point - creates a weapon that could, oh, I don't know, destroy the Replicator part of a hybrid--"

One delicate eyebrow rose. "And of course you think you're that person, but trust me, Rodney, once you've joined us, that's the last thing you'll want to do. And please, don't confuse us with the Goa'uld. We're not hosts."

Praying that his sense of timing hadn't deserted him, he said, "Yeah, that's what they said too, but they were wrong. And to be honest, I sure as hell hope you are too because you can count on us creating just such a weapon." He smiled slightly. "Only instead of sometime in the future - I'm thinking it's a done deal and ready for use...say, now?"

The smile left her face in an instant, replaced by a cold fury. "Ardoth, get up there and stop whatever he did - now."

The man on her right started to obey - but it was too late. There was a sudden snapping sound followed by what seemed to be multiple charges of static electricity. Every hair on Rodney's body seemed charged and his skin was stinging, but if it worked, a little discomfort would be more than worth it. Rodney just prayed his weapon would cover the entire city - inside and out.

Kanaan fell first, followed quickly by Elizabeth and the man she'd called 'Ardoth'. The rest...simply evaporated, proving that not all of the Replicators had been hybrids.

Lorne moved quickly, kneeling at Elizabeth's side, a finger to her neck. "She's alive, Doc!"

Rodney twisted around to reach for Kanaan. "So's he. Let's get them to the Infirmary with Teyla, then you'd better take the rest of your men and check outside. I don't think you'll find anything unless there were more hybrids out there. The ship itself should have," he waved his hand loosely toward the outside, "you know."

Looking a little bit more than just stunned, Lorne nodded and lifted Elizabeth into his arms as Rodney struggled with Kanaan. Making their way to Infirmary, Rodney found himself praying again - this time for an innocent baby and his mother.

***

_The Present_ -

Rodney stepped away from the window and sat down. He wasn't in a reading mood, as it turned out. But maybe he'd go see Johnny. On second thought, the whole potty training thing was taking on epic proportions and he really didn't want to get involved. Teyla, Kanaan and little Johnny (figures she'd name him after John even though it had been Rodney who'd saved him - not that he really cared - much) would have to do without his presence while John ran his meeting.

H smiled as he remembered the moment Teyla had seen her baby again, this time looking the way it should; all red, wiggly and crying lustily for dinner. Even his heart had skipped a beat or two.

Weeks later, with everyone back to their old selves, he'd barreled into Teyla's quarters while she was breastfeeding (something he'd initially missed due to his mental state) in order to vent his anger over the fact that Sheppard had just informed him that he wasn't going back to Earth with Elizabeth on the Daedalus. He'd paced the floor of Teyla's and Kanaan's quarters, waving his arms in the air like an Orangutan while muttering and stuttering his anger at the fact that John seemed unaware of all Rodney had done to get Elizabeth back for him. And now that she'd decided not to reclaim her position on Atlantis and, instead, go home and reconnect with herself, John wasn't going with her and, "How dare he?"

Not that Rodney hadn't been lost at the idea of John leaving Atlantis with Elizabeth - he had. Not that he'd allowed anyone to see how it was affecting him. God forbid. But of course, John's happiness counted more than his own and yes, he was fully aware of the idiocy of being angry at John for leaving him even though that's what he wanted - and feeling even angrier now John was staying. Nobody said this love thing made any kind of scientific or logical sense.

So there he'd been, ranting and raving in front of a calm, nursing Teyla and a suckling child - when her all-knowing silence had finally gotten through to him. He'd stopped mid-rant only to realize that he'd given away far more than intended. She'd seen his feelings, raw and open, his love for John warring with his disgust over John's failure to go with the woman he loved.

She'd seen it all.

And, damn it, he'd seen way more of Teyla than was seemly. But then Teyla had reached out to him, put her hand on his arm and said, ever so softly, "He does love her, Rodney, but he's never _loved_ her."

Oddly enough, Rodney had understood and, watching with a sense of wonder - instead of supreme embarrassment - as little John suckled strongly, he decided that maybe he should finally say something to big John.

The problem with his decision turned out to be timing, as usual. Months later (because in spite of making the decision, he was still a cowardly bastard), the mission to M8R-871 had come along, John had gone down, thanks to a bullet in his chest, and Carson had said the infamous words:

_"I can do it...what you all believed Michael had done to me - I can do for the Colonel."_

End Part 1


	2. Chapter 2

 

 

No one had batted an eye after Carson explained the cloning process because no one had been able to see beyond John's dead body to the ramifications of cloning him. As a result, Sam had said yes and Teyla, thinking like a mother, agreed even as she wiped the tears from her face. As for Ronon, he'd have agreed to anything that brought John back.   
  
So it had been done - even though he, Rodney, hadn't been asked. They hadn't bothered to wait for him to return from an off-world mission for the simple reason that they'd assumed his answer would have been the same.  
  
And yes, all right, in all honesty, given his state of mind at the time, they'd have been right. Not to mention that, if he had to be completely honest and fair, the decision had been the best for everyone on Atlantis. The city had her son back and the inhabitants had their leader and friend returned from the dead.   
  
For Rodney, well, once John had been back among the living, he'd been so grateful, he'd finally said it. Said the words he should have said months earlier.   
  
"I love you, John."   
  
And, miracle of miracles, John had repeated them right back to him which had led to some pretty terrific lovemaking. They'd drifted for days on the perfect cloud of their new relationship and then, after a night of love-making on the balcony, under the stars, with the moons shining down on them - he'd looked into John's eyes with a clear mind, expecting to see the same spark, the same ethereal light that was so uniquely John - the one he'd glimpsed the day John had died - but he hadn't. There'd been nothing - the light had been gone.   
  
At first, he'd thought it a trick of the moonlight, but later, inside, still nothing. Being the scientist that he was, he decided to experiment, so he went looking for something similar in the people he loved - and he'd found it. Found it deep within Teyla's gaze as she nursed her child; caught it in Ronon's eyes as he talked about Sateda after a particularly harrowing mission; and found it in Radek's triumphant gaze after solving an energy problem that had been plaguing the city.   
  
Rodney had found that special light, unique to each individual, in everyone but John. If he'd never seen it to begin with, hadn't seen it flare up in John's eyes before death had taken him - Rodney would have been none the wiser. But he had - so he knew it existed, had found it in others, and knew it was now missing in John.  
  
No one else missed it in John - how could they? And even if they'd known of such a light - no one else had been in love with John - no one else would look as deeply as Rodney. They would never understand the basic truth - the wrongness of cloning.   
  
But he did - and he'd learned the hard way.   
  
Rodney had never believed in the concept of a 'soul'. It wasn't tangible, wasn't something his mind could explain or even theorize, so he'd simply disregarded it until faced with a John risen from the dead. Now he got it as no one else could.   
  
The soul _did_ exist - and while organs and flesh and arteries and hair and memories could be cloned, that impossible-to-quantify thing called a soul - couldn't.   
  
Oh, yeah, Rodney understood now, because it had always been John's soul looking out through hazel eyes; looking at Rodney with all the love the world could bear, that Rodney had fallen in love with. It had been John's soul that had driven him to sacrifice for his team, to hurt when his people hurt, to mourn his losses and blame himself. It had been John's soul that made him the man he'd been.  
  
Leave it to Rodney to learn - finally - that it was the Soul that drove men to sacrifice for others - because it was the soul that harbored God.  
  
On M8R-871, in John's last moments, his eyes had cleared long enough to focus on Rodney. He hadn't been able to speak, but words had been unnecessary. Everything John wanted to say was there, in his eyes. His soul spoke the words John had been unable to - but then, before Rodney could return the love, John's eyes had slid shut, never to open again.   
  
Now, only Rodney's memory provided that glow, the shimmering beauty of John's soul staring at him as if no one else existed in John's world. Rodney had never had such love directed at him, nothing as complete - and certainly nothing as pure.   
  
Yes, he'd been fooled in those first weeks with John. Too wrapped up in his own happiness to look, to see. But now he knew. Now he understood that while he had John back - it wasn't _the_ John.   
  
Not his John. The one with the beautiful soul.  
  
 _"I can do it...what you all believed Michael had done to me - I can do for the Colonel."_  
  
For all that Rodney had lost, even now he couldn't regret being the one who'd figured out that Carson hadn't been a clone himself, thus freeing him from the stasis chamber so that he could later clone John. No, he couldn't wish he hadn't come to realize that those damn telomeres were shorter not because Carson had been cloned, but because of the _first_ time Michael had captured Carson. What they'd all failed to take into consideration was that Michael had fed from him in order to get answers, and then, yes, had returned what he'd taken in order to torture again...but he hadn't returned it all. Hence, by the time they'd rescued Carson that first time, he _had_ aged. Not enough to be noticeable, but enough to shorten the telomeres.   
  
But the process of cloning that Michael had developed before Elizabeth had killed him had been very real, and Carson - unable to see a world without John Sheppard - told Sam as they'd stood over John's body, that he could perfect the process and use it to give John back to them.  
  
So he had. And for Atlantis - Rodney believed it was the right decision. But for himself - not so much.  
  
On that heavenly night on the balcony, searching for John's soul and not finding it, Rodney had been left feeling bereft...and more alone than at any other time in his life. He knew he couldn't share any of what he'd learned with anyone, not even Teyla. He couldn't do that to everyone - to John. And there was no way in hell he'd explain how felt as if he were in that damn movie, Cherry 2000. Only in his case, he'd ended up with android instead of a very real Melanie Griffith. Not that John - either John - would appreciate being compared to a blonde, blue-eyed female android without a thought in her pretty little head.  
  
Turning from the window, Rodney accepted that even with all he now knew, he didn't have a clue how he would respond should cloning ever come up again.  
  
Or...maybe he did.   
  
"Each of us is one," he said to the empty room. "Just one. As it was meant to be because we're more than the sum of our parts and hold more than anyone realizes."  
  
He snorted.   
  
God, he was disgusting.  
  
***  
  
"Wait a minute, we're on stand-down, remember? Our first vacation and you want to send Rodney back to Earth for God knows how long?"  
  
Sam closed her eyes and counted to ten before opening them again. "Daniel specifically requested him, Colonel, and he wouldn't do that unless it's something important. He's General Landry's SIC and trust me, he doesn't ask lightly. And no, you can't go with him, you'd be too much of a distraction." When he started to complain, she held up a hand. "But, Daniel has assured me that he'll keep Rodney for a few days at the most. I think you can survive that long without him, don't you?"  
  
Looking all the world like a petulant two-year old, John grumbled, "I suppose so."  
  
"Good. Now run off and play like a good boy." She made a shooing motion with her hand.  
  
"Is that some kind of new leadership technique?"  
  
"Get out of here," she said with a grin.  
  
He went. As the door shut behind him, she never once gave thought to the fact that the real John Sheppard was dead.  
  
***  
  
"You're not going to get mushy or anything...are you?"  
  
"We're in the middle of the 'gate room, Rodney. Hardly SOP, if you know what I mean."  
  
"Good."  
  
The 'gate opened at that moment and John slipped Rodney's duffle bag onto his shoulder, which was kind of endearing - in a weird way. "Now you be good, don't give Jackson any trouble and I'll see you in a few days."  
  
Rodney gave the ceiling his best "Why me?" look, nudged John a little and said, "I'm surprised you didn't pack me a lunch."  
  
Looking a great deal like a very satisfied canary-hunting cat, John said, "Wait until you unpack."  
  
"Oh, my God, you did!"  
  
John gave him a little shove and Rodney moved toward the inviting blue of the 'gate. At the last minute, he turned, gave John a small salute, watched him return it, stopped a moment to search John's eyes - and saw nothing more than humor. He turned and walked through.  
  
***  
  
"You know, if you'd said anything about being forced into the Nevada desert, I'd have skipped this little trip back to Earth."  
  
Daniel chuckled and said, "Come on, it's winter, the weather is beautiful and think of all the goodies you're going to be able to play with when we get there."  
  
Rodney gave a snort as he looked around the car - no, not a car, a limo - that was taking them from the airport to Area 51. "Since when are we treated to such glamorous transportation, by the way?"  
  
"Courtesy of General O'Neill. He knows how you enjoy your comforts. And in case you've forgotten, we're in the desert because while working on _my_ project, you just had to wander into Bill's lab and, while there, recognize some hunk of machinery he was trying to figure out. You then just _had_ to inform Lee that a piece was missing. So you - and you alone - are responsible for this little side trip."  
  
"Wait a doggone minute. I may have been the one to realize there was something missing, but _you_ were the one who said you'd seen what I'd described, namely a part of the control panel. Next thing I knew, I was on a jet headed for Nevada - not that I'm complaining about our mode of transportation - because I'm not."  
  
"I see. So no matter how this goes down, it's my fault?" Daniel said, trying hard to look appropriately aggrieved.  
  
"Naturally."  
  
Giving him a suspicious look, Daniel asked, "How did Jack get to you? You've been a galaxy away and he still got to you?"  
  
Now it was Rodney's turn to laugh. Then, thinking about O'Neill, he sobered and said, "Speaking of General O'Neill - and while I hardly listen to gossip," he ignored Daniel's snort, "I've been hearing some weird things around the SGC - and they're too similar not to have some truth behind them. Mind you, I wouldn't be surprised if what I heard was true because, after all, everyone knew Sam's assignment wasn't permanent and I, for one, while thoroughly happy with Sam, wouldn't mind a civilian again, just to kind of even things out, you know? So...uhm... is it true?"  
  
"Am I supposed to know which of the many rumors going around you're asking about?"  
  
"Yes," Rodney said simply as he stared at Daniel.  
  
Turning to look out the tinted window, Daniel slowly nodded. "It's...true. But not for another month. Then...yeah, I'll be taking over."  
  
Rodney whistled low before asking, just as the car was cleared through the gates that separated the world from Area 51, "Why a month?"  
  
Daniel turned back to look at Rodney, and he had the distinct feeling that he was being sized up, that Daniel was making up his mind about answering with the truth or a lie.   
  
He must have approved because Daniel finally said simply, "That's when Jack retires."  
  
For a moment, Rodney's mind went the wrong way and he attached the statement to Sam. But when he looked deeper into Daniel's eyes - into his soul - he realized his error and quickly reversed direction. He smiled. "I see. That's going to surprise a few people."  
  
"Yeah, I expect there will be more than a few shocked looks when Sam arrives back at the SGC and Jack leaves. But don't worry, Sam is fully aware."  
  
"I should hope so. By the way, last time Sam and I were here...by the way, where were you then?"  
  
"On vacation - in Washington."  
  
Rodney grinned. "Right, of course. Anyway, I noticed a definite chemistry between the new guy on SG1 and Sam, which surprised the hell out of me because of course, I figured it was...you know...."  
  
"I do. And you're not the only one to have noticed that spark between them, by the way."  
  
The car pulled up in front of a warehouse with two guards on either side of a set of large metal doors. The driver got out and opened Rodney's door, so, for the moment, their conversation stalled until they were inside. Rodney noticed immediately that Daniel waved the guards outside and slid the door shut. He turned back to Rodney and said thoughtfully, "If I remember correctly, what we're looking for is in Section U - and no, not for Unidentified, although it fits."  
  
Rodney gave an exasperated shake of his head. "It couldn't be in Section A?"  
  
Daniel snagged Rodney's sweater and pulled him down the aisle. "No. And to add more injury to your insult - Section U isn't even in this part of the warehouse." He pointed to another set of doors at the end of the large cavernous room.   
  
"I refuse to suggest a certain colonel with unruly hair planned this." At the absurdity of the idea that the current John would even think of such a thing, Rodney froze, causing Daniel's hand to slip away from his sweater.  
  
"Rodney?"  
  
"Sorry, I... Just...sorry. Lead on."  
  
Daniel cocked his head and regarded Rodney and, once again, he felt himself being measured, almost as if Daniel could see the truth... But that would be impossible. Even for Daniel Jackson.  
  
***  
  
"Here we go," Daniel said as he let Rodney precede him into the next section. He wasn't surprised when Rodney stopped to gape at what stood before him.  
  
"Is that... Is it?" Rodney faced Daniel, his eyes alight with a burning curiosity.  
  
"Yeah. We keep it here now, safe and secure."  
  
Rodney turned back to the Ancient jumper. "Since when is anything safe around here?"  
  
Daniel scratched his temple and said dismissively, "Well, sort of since...well, since I was put in charge, sort of. This is all SGC property. Not even the NID or a member of the IOA can get in here without my permission."  
  
"Wow, what a difference a year makes," Rodney said with a small, wry smile.  
  
Daniel shrugged and led him away from the time-jumper and over to a large metal cabinet. He got out a set of keys, searched through them briefly, found the right one, and unlocked the door. He pulled it open and reached up to the third shelf in order to bring down a large crate. "Here we go, this should be it."   
  
He set it down on a work table and let Rodney dig in.   
  
A moment later, out of the mess of protectively wrapped objects, he withdrew what could only be described as a block, the material of which would have stumped most scientists on Earth. Nodding, Rodney said, "This is it. See here," he pointed to three triangles, "the other half of the controls." He turned it in his hand and added, "And here, this is where it will connect to the half in the lab. Bill should have some fun with this."  
  
"Great, so let's get it boxed back up and get you out of the horrible desert."  
  
"Ha-ha," Rodney said.   
  
A moment later, box tucked under Daniel's arm, they started back for the main part of the warehouse. They didn't get far as Rodney stopped in front of the ship again. He stared up at it for several minutes, while Daniel waited patiently at his side.   
  
Finally he asked, "It can't be safe, not really. I'm surprised, given what nearly happened...you know...that you agreed, even under the new setup, to allow it to remain here instead of the SGC...or even destroying it altogether."  
  
"Both options were considered, but neither I nor Sam could talk Jack around the fact that the last time...yeah, things went wrong, but in the end, going back in time saved the day. So now, every time it comes up, Jack just shrugs and says the same thing: 'Desperate times may once again require desperate measures'."  
  
A few seconds went by before Rodney, his expression pensive, said, "But still...the temptation...."   
  
"Rodney, it's not exactly like most forms of Ancient technology. For one thing, this has...I guess you'd call it a key. And without that, it can't move. It won't respond to anyone, no matter how strong their Ancient gene."  
  
Eyes roving over the ship, lips slightly parted, Rodney felt something stirring inside - something akin to hope. Then his shoulders slumped as he said, "But of course, the key isn't here, right? Probably the General--"  
  
"Actually, as it happens, I have it with me."  
  
Daniel's voice sounded so mysterious that Rodney tore his gaze from the ship to look at him.   
  
Daniel dug into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a small, black rectangular case. "Funny how I just happened to bring this with me today, isn't it?"  
  
Rodney stared at the item resting so innocuously in Daniel's palm. It was...he could... And it was right here. Within reach.  
  
"I read the file regarding the mission to M8R-871," Daniel added softly.  
  
Rodney wasn't the same man who'd first arrived at the SGC, let alone the same person who'd stepped through the 'gate onto Atlantis four years ago. That man wouldn't have caught on, wouldn't have heard all that Daniel _wasn't_ saying. The old Rodney had no real interest in people, in reading them, understanding them, doing more than taking them, and their words, at face value. But that Rodney was gone. Gone partly through attrition, the shell of indifference (and yeah, he could admit it had been mostly a shell - but he'd also been pretty much a prick) cracking and falling away thanks to the constant threat of death, and thanks to a team who continually refused to leave any of them behind. But mostly because the person who'd become his anchor, as ridiculous as that sounded, had been taken from him and he now lived with a perfect copy - perfect in almost every way.  
  
So, because it was a different man standing in a top secret warehouse in the middle of the desert, he knew precisely what Daniel was saying. But that didn't make it - viable. There was too much at stake if something went wrong.  
  
As if reading his mind, Daniel added enticingly, "One moment that could be changed instantly, Rodney. No real change required, no need to stop the mission or even the injury - but you could save his life with very little risk to the present."  
  
"How can you know that?" Rodney asked, gaze stuck on the 'key' and mind racing. "Neither of us can say with certainty what one action would or wouldn't change for everyone else, can we? I believe in the Chaos Theory and if... Look, it could change your - the - present. Are you really willing to--"  
  
The pale blue eyes looking back at him seemed to darken with only something that looked like a bright blue flame in the middle of the pupil remaining. And then, just as quickly, they cleared and Rodney was looking at Daniel and nothing more. He shook his head as if trying to dislodge what he thought he'd just seen - namely - Daniel's soul. A soul both ancient and wise. Almost without realizing it, he reached for, and took, the small case.  
  
"I'm going to go put this in the car, get something cold to drink. I bet you'd like to...look around for a bit, right?" Daniel asked as he stuffed his now empty hand into his pocket.  
  
"I could...do that, yeah. No sense in blowing a chance to see all the goodies."  
  
"Exactly."  
  
With that, Daniel was gone, softly, quietly, almost as though he'd never been there. Rodney stared up at the ship...a gift...if he chose to use it. And he would, because deep inside - he trusted Daniel Jackson; the one person who'd ascended and chosen - not once, but twice - to return. You had to believe there was something there, something different - special - inside of the man. You had to.  
  
At least Rodney had to...because he wanted the real John Sheppard back.   
  
The one with the soul that was connected to his own.   
  
Walking toward the ship, he rolled his eyes and made a mental note to never tell John anything about souls or anything else that could even remotely be construed as...mushy.  
  
John would never let him live it down.  
  
***  
  
As Daniel had known he would, Rodney had no difficulty getting inside, let alone figuring out where to insert the case/key. The hard part was remembering everything John had ever taught him about flying and everything he'd read (he really was an excellent hacker) about SG-1's trip back to Ancient Egypt - both times. He knew he needed to concentrate, to stop the tremors that were currently running through him, if he was even going to move a minute in the past, let alone a year.   
  
Okay, the key was to think....  
  
Wait!  
  
"Shit!" he yelled. He closed his eyes, fear and disappointment coursing through him. He couldn't go back if he didn't have what he needed to save John. And if he left now, if he went outside...coming back in wasn't going to happen. He knew that as surely as he knew himself - and contrary to other people's opinions - he did. Know himself.   
  
Fighting back something he'd never admit to being tears of frustration and anger at being so close, he opened his eyes - and spotted it. On the console between his seat and the other.   
  
It was so out of place, he wondered how he'd missed it when he'd sat down.   
  
An old yellow Bic pen.   
  
With great hesitation, almost afraid it would disappear, he reached for it, touched it, picked it up - and held it to his chest.  
  
"Thank you, Daniel," he whispered.  
  
He let his mind do the rest and, a moment later, the world - his world - shimmered...and changed....  
  
***  
  
"They're on their way, Sheppard, just hold on!"  
  
"There's so much blood, Ronon, so much blood."  
  
The panic in Teyla's voice did more to put the icy-cold grip of fear in Rodney's heart than the pool of red that bubbled up between his fingers while holding his hand over the wound in John's chest. Teyla never allowed her emotions to leak into her voice. Being a leader of an entire race of people could do that to a person. But now... Oh, God...he was going to lose Sheppard and he hadn't - had never told him the truth. Never said the words he'd promised himself to say, words that should have been said months ago.  
  
Bubbles of froth and blood started to trickle from the corner of John's mouth, slipping down the white skin, through the dark stubble and, mesmerized, Rodney watched.   
  
On a level he refused to accept, the symbolism - the truth - was there.   
  
John's life...dribbling away...and there was nothing anyone could do to stop it.  
  
One altercation too many, this time with a people on M8R-871 who'd embraced the quickly disappearing Wraith to become worshipers of the galactic vampires. So much so, that they'd heard of Atlantis, of John and his team. When faced with the premiere SGA team in person, they'd made it their business to capture them as an offering to their 'gods'.  
  
The Wraith as gods. Fuck, how messed up was that? As if, since the opening of the Stargate on Earth, they hadn't had enough fake gods.   
  
"His lungs are filling with blood," Teyla whispered.  
  
Rodney's eyes fixed on John's closed ones, only to see them open, clear and bright - and it almost took his breath away - the beauty he saw within. His heart stammered, skipped several beats before John's eyes slid shut, hiding that beautiful...thing...he'd glimpsed all too briefly.   
  
Striking the ground with his fist, he said, "Damn it, if only we had something to use - anything - a tube--"  
  
Then he remembered the pen. The stupid, yellow Bic pen. The one time he'd been without his tablet and thus desperate to find something to write with when an idea had hit him, and there, next to Chuck's hand, an honest-to-god pen. He'd used it...and then...then....  
  
Shaking, he reached into the pocket of his pants and pulled it out. "Okay, Teyla, get the tape out of the Med kit." He watched her do it as he unscrewed the pen, tossed the spring, took out the old-fashioned plastic tubing and yelled, "Ronon, a knife, now!"  
  
Like a surgeon, he didn't even look up as Ronon placed one, taken from God-knew-where on his body, into his hand. Using it, he sliced off the end and then stuck it into the wound.   
  
"What are you--"  
  
"Saw it in a movie," Rodney spat out as Teyla handed him the tape. He held the tube in place with bloody hands, listened intently, prayed he was doing it right. A moment later, when John's breathing eased and some of the bluish tinge to his lips started to fade, Rodney thought this just might end up as a not-half-bad day.  
  
"It's Lorne," Ronon said from where he stood guard.  
  
"And the Polciums?" Teyla asked without raising her head or moving her gaze from the tube which seemed to be giving John his life back.  
  
"Nowhere in sight, but since the odds are now in our favor, it's not surprising." Ronon glanced down at John and added, "Does that thing," he pointed to the pen, "count as a Hail Mary?"  
  
"This," Rodney said, his voice breaking halfway, "is a Hail Mary and the Father, Son and Holy Ghost." He closed his eyes and, for the briefest of moments, thought he was somewhere else...but the feeling faded as the sound of Lorne and his team intruded. He stared down at John again and sent up a prayer of thanks for having a silly pen when all he usually had was a stylus.  
  
End Part 2


	3. Conclusion

 

  


 

He knew he was pacing; didn't take a genius to figure that one out. When you move from one side of a small area to the other - repeatedly - you're generally assumed to be pacing. And while Rodney would readily admit that he was often an ass, this particular assumption wasn't responsible since he was, well, pacing. And, if that weren't enough, he was mind-blathering.

Rodney glanced over at the bed again, saw a smear of white, but mostly the back of Ronon's head. He took two pacing-sized steps backward, angled his head - and there was John.

Sheppard.

Whatever.

Still out, skin still matching the sheet that covered the lower half of his body, and still hooked up to everything the Infirmary had in the way of equipment.

Rodney wished - really wished - that Ronon would give up the "I'll protect him with my dying breath" seat so Rodney could have it, so he could actually touch John. (Funny how once you acknowledged feelings for a guy, you could use his first name more often). At least Teyla wasn't here because then he'd never get the chair. Not that she _hadn't_ been here; she had. In and out, usually with Johnny in her arms and doing that whole eating thing and no, Teyla was not using a bottle and damn it, it was very disconcerting because there'd been a time - in the not too distant past - when he'd have appreciated the act...well, maybe not the idea of... Oh, hell, he was still blathering. This had to be the stupidest conversation he'd ever had with himself.

A large hand landed on his shoulder, not unlike a 747, and stopped him from the verbal hodge-podge, not to mention the added bonus of holding him in place.

"Take the chair, McKay, before I have to knock you out."

There were times when Rodney loved Ronon.

***

John hated this feeling. And yes, he knew exactly what the feeling meant, which was why he hated it. That floaty, "I’m in no pain but should be and who put the cotton in my mouth" feeling which always signified the Infirmary. He supposed opening his eyes would be the usual tricky maneuver - it always was - but he tried anyway.

Yep, too bright. As he closed them again, he made a bet with himself as to who'd be sitting in the chair even though no matter who it was, he couldn't lose. McKay was the only person in the world who routinely lost bets with himself. Took real talent, too.

Speaking of Rodney - he kind of hoped it would be him. He had a vague recollection of thinking he was dying, of looking at Rodney, of trying to tell him everything he'd failed to say for the last year or so, and then - nothing.

Until now.

He really should be dead. He felt the truth of that in his bones, but the familiar smell of the Infirmary, the whole cotton-mouth thing, told him the opposite.

"No, I'm saying his eyes moved, almost opened. I think he's waking up."

Ah, good, Rodney. He'd know that nervous, quasi-sarcastic whine anywhere.

"Colonel, can you hear me? Rodney insists you're waking up and we wouldn't want to spoil his recent run of being right, now would we?"

Carson. That soft burr was the only good thing about regaining consciousness in a hospital bed. He supposed he might as well try again - he really wanted to see Rodney anyway.

"That's it, Colonel...."

***

Rodney held his breath...and then John was blinking up at them and Carson was saying, "That's it, Colonel" and life was good again.

***

"Hey."

"Just in time for dinner, as usual," John said as he waved Rodney over to the chair by his bed. "But you won't like it. I'm still on mostly liquids."

"I know." Rodney looked over his shoulder and, satisfied that Carson was nowhere near, held up a small bag. "That's why I brought this." He set it down next to the bowl of what looked like pee from a dead man.

"Tell me," John said, his eyes glowing with the healthy light of food greed.

"Those soft Athosian cookie bars you're so fond of. Very nutritious and easy on the digestive system."

"Rodney McKay, I love you."

Rodney sat down, hard. John was digging avariciously into the bag and seemingly unaware of what he'd said - or at least of its import. Rodney cocked his head as he noticed that John's hand was shaking - ever so slightly.

Okay, maybe John knew exactly what he'd said - and why.

Smiling contentedly, he sat back in the chair and said, "If I'd known your stomach really _was_ the way to your heart, I'd have been plying you with goodies for months."

Biting into a bar, John chewed dreamily, nodded, and with his mouth full, nevertheless said, "So now you know."

At least...that's what it sounded like to Rodney.

***

 _Eight Weeks Later_ -

The 'gate room was full of people, the military half in full dress uniform, the civilian half dressed to the nines and tens. There were streamers dangling from above and groups of colorful balloons placed in strategic corners of the 'gate room.

John stood at attention as the 'gate lit up, while Rodney, in his best suit, stood beside him. Carson was on the other side of John, along with Teyla, with Johnny in her arms, and Kanaan. Ronon stood just behind John and Rodney.

The wormhole stabilized and, a moment later, two men stepped through. There was an audible gasp, which Rodney could understand. Only one person was supposed to exit.

Daniel Jackson smiled at John, who said, "Welcome to Atlantis, Doctor Jackson."

"Thank you, Colonel." He grinned, indicated the man beside him, and added, "I'm guessing Jack's presence is a bit of a surprise, though?"

John started to salute, but Jack waved him off. "I'm a civilian now, Colonel. Retired earlier than planned, so no saluting required or desired. Just think of me as your new resident buttinski."

"Sir, I believe you might have some competition from Doctor McKay on that," John drawled.

"It's Jack. Or Mr. O'Neill. Or Mr. Jac--"

"Shut up, Jack," Daniel said blandly. "I'm supposed to make a profound, meaningful, deep speech now, if that's all right with you?"

"Sure, sure. Just remember, the key to greatness is brevity. Not that you're familiar with the concept."

People started to exchange pointed looks that bounced from Daniel and Jack - to John and Rodney. There were a few titters, some outright snorts and more than a few choked-back laughs, mostly from Lorne and Ronon.

Daniel just shrugged, smiled again and, as John and Rodney moved to stand next to him, cleared his throat before, in a voice that carried easily over the crowd, said, "I feel privileged to follow in the footsteps of Dr. Elizabeth Weir and Colonel Samantha Carter, and deeply honored to join you here in Atlantis. It's probably well-known how much I would have liked to have been with you originally," he shot a pointed look at O'Neill, who simply smirked, "but maybe later is better than never." He ignored Jack's snort. "I realize I have much to prove, but know that I understand how this mission has depended on the mutual respect you share, and the tight-knit community you've created - so as far as I'm concerned, you've already succeeded in your mission and have nothing to prove to me."

He paused as his last statement was met with hearty and appreciative applause. When the group quieted, he gave them a small, shy smile. "I'm really excited about being here. This," he opened his arms, gesturing to the city around them, "is so magnificent and, even now, after all this time, there's so much we can still learn from the Ancients, so much good we can do in this galaxy. I realize threats to Atlantis, to our allies in this system, and to Earth, still exist - but together, we'll continue to meet them head on and defeat them."

Daniel stopped for a moment in order to take a deep breath, which left room for more applause.

As Rodney watched Daniel, he had the feeling something big was about to be dropped on them - he just hoped it was something good, which would be a refreshing change.

"However," Daniel finally said, "whatever the future may hold, whatever the challenges, we won't be meeting them as simply an expedition - for the simple reason that the Atlantis Expedition no longer exists. We are now the first official - off-world - colony of Earth."

There was a shocked silence for about thirty seconds, allowing everyone, including Rodney, to process the significance of Daniel's words. Rodney felt his heart give a sudden flip of excitement - and a moment later, everyone started clapping, whistling and whooping their approval.

Rodney looked at John, who was grinning almost as broadly as he had following their first kiss. Feeling his own joy, he really would have loved to take John's hand - or at least hug the stuffing out of him, but this _was_ a formal occasion - so he resisted the urge.

Eventually the group settled and allowed Daniel to go on.

"I realize there's a great deal to discuss about the change and I promise to get together with everyone in the coming days and weeks, but for now, I'll be meeting with the senior staff later today. In the meantime, all I ask is that you keep doing the great job you've always done." He glanced over at John. "Give us a half hour to settle in and then I'd like to meet with you, your team and the senior staff in the Conference Room?"

John, surprised by the fact that Daniel's words had been in the form of a question, nevertheless nodded. "We assumed you'd use the same quarters as Colonel Carter...but now...I mean...."

He let his words trail off, seeing by Daniel's expression that he understood.

"Thank you, Colonel. We'll--"

"Don't worry," Jack interrupted. "I'll take charge of our quarters." He patted Daniel on the back. "You just run off and play with your new friends and leave the house-hunting to me."

His words were so at odds with his reputation that there was another stunned silence that could have stretched to uncomfortable if Rodney hadn't snorted and said, "Just like a general. Bet he takes over in less than twenty-four hours."

Before John could jab his over-eager elbow into Rodney's ribs, Daniel responded lightly, "Not if we form a united front from the get-go."

***

For the first time since hearing that Atlantis was now considered a 'colony' of Earth, Rodney relaxed. Everything Daniel had explained in his meeting with the senior staff sounded - well, perfect. What had surprised everyone was the fact that there was actually a time-line for divulging the SGC - and thus Atlantis - to the world. And it was only two years off. In the meantime, all members of the Expedition who wished to become 'residents' of the colony could do so and eventually be permitted to move their family members to Atlantis.

Ever since communications had reopened between Earth and Atlantis and staff had started to rotate on and off, there'd been no reason to ensure that those who volunteered, or accepted an invitation, were without immediate ties, like husbands, wives, significant others and children. Personally, Rodney was very hopeful the invitation to family members would include, say, pets? More specifically...cats.

Teyla had been very happy at the news, since it would mean children to play with her son. Ronon, on the other hand, had just shrugged, but Rodney, who now noticed such things, caught the way his body kind of relaxed into his chair. Yeah, it was pretty obvious Ronon understood exactly how great the news was for all of them.

Rodney flipped the pen he was now rarely without, over and under his fingers while thinking of all the upcoming changes. Suddenly a shadow fell over the conference table.

"You're still here."

He glanced up and smiled at Daniel. "Yeah, John went to get us some lunch; we thought...we kind of decided to eat in here and talk about everything."

"Ah. And...the Mess isn't up to your standards?" Daniel asked with a smile.

"Not privacy-wise. There are a few things...specifically...that we need to--"

"DADT doesn't exist anymore, you know that. Come to think of it, I got the impression it never really did - here. So why the ongoing secrecy?"

"I... Okay, that's a good question. I guess we both kind of agreed - after word of the dissolution of DADT made it to us - that we should, I don't know, lead by example? I thought it was a bunch of hooey, but it kind of allowed the acceptance to happen more gradually." Then he smirked. "No orgies in the halls, if you know what I mean."

"So you two have never...you're still keeping separate quarters?" At Rodney's sheepish nod, Daniel gave a slight shake of his head and added, "Then as my first official act as...whatever I am now...I order you and Colonel Sheppard to do exactly what Jack's doing: find more suitable quarters to _share_. Find a home."

Rodney's eyes widened at that, but he supposed he shouldn't have been surprised. Not by Daniel.

"Hey, I had a pen just like that," Daniel suddenly said, pointing at the Bic Rodney was holding. "It disappeared...oh, a bit over two months ago."

Feeling suddenly woozy, Rodney stared down at the bright, yellow pen, the one that had saved John's life.

"Funny, isn't it?" Daniel asked. "All the best equipment and technology you could possibly ask for, yet here you are, playing with a Bic pen - like mine."

Perplexed, Rodney looked up...to find a gentle smile on Daniel's lips...one that seemed so at odds with his words. It made Rodney feel as though something had just been given to him, shared with him, but unfortunately, he didn't get it. He gave himself a small shake and said, "Yeah, funny." He held it up. "This doesn't work anymore - it's what we used to save--"

"I know, I read the report. Lucky you had it. I don't exactly see you carrying a ballpoint pen on missions."

Rodney chuckled - a slightly hysterical one. "Hell, I didn't know we even had them - I mean, like this. We have those NASA pens, of course, and you can find a stylus in every corner of Atlantis, but an old pen? Yeah, I was...John was...damn lucky."

He frowned at the item in his hand even as Daniel said, "Well, I'm going to find my wayward ex-general and see where he's decided we should live. As for the pen, I'm glad it found its way here just when you needed it."

Giving Rodney one last - knowing - look, Daniel turned and left.

Fifteen minutes later, when John arrived with a tray full of food, Rodney was in the exact same position as he'd been when Daniel left. Namely - staring at the pen.

"I bring sustenance, meaning you should look more - hey, what's that?"

Rodney blinked several times before staring up at his partner. "This? They call it a 'pen'. P-E-N. You write with it."

Sliding the tray towards Rodney, John rolled his eyes, sat down, and said, "Thank you for the lesson in writing implements, but oddly enough, I knew exactly what it was--"

"Then why did you ask?"

"Rodney, sometimes you can be so--"

"This is what saved your life," Rodney interrupted.

Stunned, John stared at the pen before finally saying, "Oh. Oh."

"But I think...maybe... No, I _know_ it belonged to Daniel."

Pulling a plate heaped high with a double-stacked ham sandwich, potato salad and Jell-o off the tray and toward him, John said, "Okay, that sounds weird, but weird is normal in the Pegasus Galaxy, so I'm going to ignore it and eat. But save that pen, I may want to frame it later."

"Bronzed. We'll have it bronzed," Rodney replied, looking more relaxed now.

"Cool. Now eat."

"Plan to. And when we're done, we have orders from Daniel to go find our own 'home'."

John stopped chewing.

Smile going wider, Rodney said, "Daniel's first order. Seems he thinks we don't need to set an example anymore, which makes sense since he and the General - ex-general - are openly setting up housekeeping." He reached for his own plate and happily started to eat.

***

Daniel watched Rodney and John from the desk in his new office. His eyes were warm and far more knowing than anyone - even Jack - would have been comfortable seeing.

***

 _Two Weeks Later_ -

He had everything. Everything he'd prayed for a couple of months ago, when his life turned impossibly bleak, was now his.

Rodney looked around the small kitchenette with its sunny colors (courtesy of the bright, stained-glass windows), at the small breakfast table holding his Simpson's mug (a gag gift from Jack) full to the brim with hot coffee, and finally, an NFL plate (a 'just because you're so weird' present from John) that held scrambled eggs, bacon and cinnamon raisin toast. The soothing sound of the ocean added to the overall feeling of an peaceful, ordinary life. At that moment, John walked in, dropped a kiss on the top of Rodney's head, filled his own mug with coffee and helped himself to the remaining eggs, bacon and only slightly cooled toast before joining Rodney at the table.

"Looks great," he commented as he dug his fork into the eggs.

"Made it your way - cream, sour cream and chives," Rodney answered with a grin.

"Thanks. So what's on the schedule for later? A relaxing hike over to the East Pier and that exploring you wanted to do...or maybe the trip to the mainland we've been planning?"

It was day one of their long overdue vacation and Rodney, the man with everything, couldn't have cared less what they did as long as it was together.

John gave a wicked waggle of his eyebrows, cocked his head, and added, "Or maybe we go back to bed?"

Rodney smiled - the one that generally turned John to a puddle of goo - and said, "Whatever you want to do, I want to do."

Grinning, John waved a piece of bacon in the general direction of their room and said, "Bed it is. Right after that pesky meeting with the teams in," he checked his watch, "an hour, but after that, I'm all yours."

Rodney should have complained about the last-minute meeting - bitterly - but after all, he'd have John all to himself for days - he could afford to be magnanimous.

He watched as John, a half-smile on his face, enjoyed his breakfast while perusing a couple of reports. He hadn't shaved yet, his hair was spiky (yes, even more so than usual), and his right cheek was pillow-creased.

John was the most beautiful sight in Rodney's world.

Rodney sighed happily, contentedly.

John finished the last of his toast and coffee, put the report down, stood, picked up their dishes and walked them to the counter. He put them in the washer, waved his hand over the small crystal plate and walked back to Rodney. "I'd suggest a shower together, but we both know I'd be late to the meeting. But I promise to zip through it in half the time, all right?"

"Sure. I've got things I can do to stay busy," Rodney said easily.

Grinning again, John wagged a finger at him and warned, "Don't get too busy, I don't want to hear anything even remotely resembling, 'I have to finish this, it might hold the secret to the universe' coming out of your mouth. Got that, buddy?"

Rodney felt his heart jump a bit at the way John said 'buddy' - only John could make it sound as though he'd just called Rodney, "sweetheart". Shaking his head at the ridiculous thought of his being anyone's sweetheart, he nevertheless nodded and crossed his heart. "Reading a mystery book. That's it, just reading."

John patted him on the head on his way to the bathroom. "Good boy."

Rodney watched him leave and couldn't help but think what a fucking difference a year can make in a man's life. In his whole world. Good changes. Great changes.

He had John and his life was as good as it looked.

Better.

The End

 

**Author's Note:**

> Apparent major character death, but trust me. *g*


End file.
